


Wrong Place (But Oh, Such A Right Time)

by ElizaStyx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Destiel Forever, Drunk Castiel, Drunkenness, First Meetings, Hilarity Ensues, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mistakes, Nursing, Pie, Shyness, and awkwardness, at least sort of, lots of cuteness, or at least a real hilarious video, prompt, quality fic, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 07:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7609627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaStyx/pseuds/ElizaStyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean supposed he should be scared or at least a bit freaked out, he really should. Because that's generally what you are when you find a complete stranger lying there in your bed, right? If that wasn't a good enough reason to scream and call the police, then nothing really was. But then again, the stranger, a young man with dark, messy hair, seemed harmless and also... kind of cute. And yeah, obviously, completely, shitfaced drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Place (But Oh, Such A Right Time)

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to The Sound Of Silence while writing this. You cannot tell me how to live my life.  
> Also, this is based on a post from Destiel Forever facebook group, specifically [this video](https://www.facebook.com/uniladmag/videos/2329106047112441/).  
> At this point I don't even know what is my existence. One kudo - one answer for me. Comment to save a life.

Dean had had a fair amount of weird happen to him in his life. Who hadn't, right? Usually, the kind of weird that happened to Dean was a fairly regular, medium level of weird that he supposed could happen to anyone else as well. He didn't consider himself especially chosen by some vicious gods of fate to live a life full of the oddest surprises. And yet, sometimes, he was tempted to jump to that conclusion.

Tonight was one of those times.

It begun just like a regular Dean's Saturday would. He moved his little lawn in the morning, washed and waxed his car, ate a tasty dinner over at Sam and Jess', watched a match on TV and then went out to spend the evening with Charlie and Jo in Elen's bar. The whole day went by calmly, finished off with a beer or two and Dean felt to relaxed and too lazy to even recreationally flirt with anyone. He wasn't too sleepy or particularly tired, when he decided to head back home. He felt so at peace, he took a walk, deciding to breathe in some chill, summer night's air.

So maybe it wasn't exactly such a regular Saturday but hey, close enough or even actually better than what one usually looked like. Dean secretly loved that it was so much more chill. Or well, rather would be, if the fate didn't chose to disrupt it with a gift of weirdness that surprised Dean in a form of definitely unfamiliar man lying right in the middle of Dean's bed and clutching his pillow like a lifeline, when Dean stepped in to get some rest.

Dean supposed he should be scared or at least a bit freaked out. It was definitely not one of those things that just happened from time to time to regular citizens. It was one of those things that seemed to only happen to Dean and made him question the existence of his guardian angel. Or at least said angel's sense of humour.

Not to be completely negative though, the sleeping man was actually really, really cute. Don't judge, Dean would have to be blind not to notice that. Also, he seemed pretty unthreatening, so peacefully passed out and all. Dean would just prefer to know how and why the dude got there. That  was the only improvement the situation needed.

Hestitantly, he stepped closer to the bed and patted the guy's shoulder.  
"Hey, buddy, hey, wake up!" he shook the man gently.  
The man grunted in response and remained stubbornly asleep.  
"Come on, man, you are in my house, in my bed and I don't even know you. I have never seen you before!" Dean felt a pang of frustration.  
"Whaaa...?" the guy finally raised his head and turned his head to face the source of the sound, his eyes still firmly shut. "I'm in my bed, leave me alone!" he slurred.  
"Oh God, you really are fucking drunk..." Dean took a step back and shook his head with disbelief; well, at least it explained some things. Like this guy's presence, probably.  
"M'not." the guy huffed and rested his head back on Dean's pillow.  
"You really, really are. Shit, man, you are so drunk you came into the wrong house and climbed into the wrong bed, my bed." Dean couldn't help a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips; the situation was actually kind of hilarious, if you thought about it, and the dude was also kind of adorable, scrunching his forehead and all.  
"It is my bed, I pay taxes for it!" the man finally drawled in a very grumpy tone and that was it, Dean lost it completely.

He bursted out with uncontrollable laughter, bending in half and wheezing, even more so as the guy finally sort of sat up and squinted at him angrily.  
"Why are you laughing?" he scrunched his nose like a kitten. "Who are you even? What are you doing in my house?"  
"Oh, man..." Dean had trouble catching a breath. "Oh man, this is my house, my bed and you are so, so drunk. And also an asshole. You are so gonna be rattled tomorrow, when you realise what an asshole you were."

The man sat in silence for a second.

"Yeah, I probably am. Gonna be rattled, that is." he finally said and then slumped back onto the bed.  
"Hey, hey, it does not mean you can sleep in my bed!" Dean finally crossed the distance between them and sat on the edge of the matress to shake the guy's arm again.  
And wow, was it a mistake... The guy opened his eyes and looked right into Dean's. Dean decided that such a pair of baby blues should be illegal in all the states, no exception. Also, no one should be looking at Dean with such a vulnerability, really, he was too big a softie deep inside to handle that.

"Are you completely sure that this is indeed your bed not mine?" the man eventually seemed to start losing some of his previous certainty.  
"Yeah, I am pretty damn sure." Dean nodded, unable to look away.  
"Okay." the guy nodded, giving an impression of someone almost sober now. "However, I'm still not fully convinced you aren't playing me..." he narrowed his eyes.  
"Do you recognize any of this place? Have you ever been here before" Dean licked his lip nervously and stood up as the man moved to get out of the bed.  
"No... not really..." the guy took a look around as he stood, his voice growing sheepish. "Or maybe. I... I think I used to live here..." he looked back at Dean. "I should go." he added after a short pause.

Then he proceeded to take off but while his brain seemed a bit less alcohol-driven now, his body hadn't caught up just yet and he stumbled over his own legs. He didn't faceplant onto the floor only because Dean caught him. Which by the way was also sort of a mistake since now there was a heavy, warm and very soft weight in his arms. Dean could even smell his fruity shampoo, his nose almost burrowed in the dark hair of the man. He blushed and then blushed some more as he realised that his body reacted in such a way and he couldn't help it.

"Well, you definitely cannot sleep in my bed, that's for sure, but maybe you'd like to have the guest room tonight?" he asked, his voice much lower than intended.  
"I really should go now..." the man seemed downright embarassed now; and flushed too, oh... "I'm usually... not like this." he sounded apologetic.  
"I insist you stay." Dean said firmly. Firmer than he expected himself to sound. Wow, desperate much. But there was something that made him not quite ready to let go of that guy just yet. Besides, letting him wander around in his state wouldn't be the right thing to do.  
"Oh..." said the man softly, his breath hot against Dean's neck. "Okay then."

They didn't talk much after that, as he let Dean lead him to the guest room and tuck him in. Later that night, Dean dreamt about a pair of the bluest eyes.

***

The morning could have been much more awkward, Dean supposed. Or maybe it actually couldn't, it's not like he had any experience. He had this very strange feeling that he was somehow the more embarassed party in this whole mess, which, admittedly, was kind of ridiculous, if you thought about it. It was just that he always didn't handle second-hand embarassment well and boy, did he have an occasion to experience plenty of that...

He couldn't recall meeting anyone who could express embarassment quite as impressively as Cas. Yes, because the guy who sneaked into his house and claimed his bed was apparently named Castiel - Cas for friends - and that was about it for the information that Dean managed to get out of him before he run to puke his guts out in Dean's bathroom.

Maybe if he had to hold Cas' hair... only then it could be more embarassing than it already had been. Yeah, that was probably the only way. Dean was glad he didn't have the opportunity to test out that theory though.

Fast forward twenty minutes and Cas was back in the guest room, clearly in insufferable pain and yet...  
"I really should get going, Dean..." Cas kept whimpering like a mantra and Dean really hoped it wasn't because he didn't want to be around Dean but rather because this was kind of an objectively horrible way to get to know someone new.  
"You really don't seem fit for moving anywhere, Cas." Dean would actually be seriously worried, if he let him go out in that state.

Fortunately, Cas didn't have enough power to keep arguing or just simply walk out and so he stayed. He stayed until he managed to keep the aspirin down for long enough for it to work. Then he drunk some tea and, with only a weak protest, ate a toast Dean made for him. The colours slowly returned onto his face.

"Thank you, Dean." he said next time Dean came in to check up on him. "You didn't have to take care of me like this, I owe you."  
"Nah, it's no biggie. Anyone would do the same." Dean blushed a little because Cas looked just too sincere with his stupidly pretty eyes.  
"I think you overestimate humanity, Dean." Cas tilted his head slightly to the right.

Dean would give quite a lot just to make Cas stop repeating his name like this, it was stirring something weird inside of him. He really didn't want to think about what exactly that feeling was.

"At least all of my friends would do exactly what I did so..." Dean shrugged to brush it off.  
"Then you have some very good friends." Cas smiled and Dean wished he could just stop looking at him so... intently.

They fell silent for a moment.

"So..." Dean begun just as Cas said "I think I should be leaving now."  
"You... Really?" Dean couldn't hide the disappointment in his tone.  
"I'm feeling much better now, thanks to you." Cas bowed his head. "And I feel like I already massively abused your kindness and hospitality."  
"It's not...!" Dean mentally slapped himself for protesting so vigoriously and finished in a much calmer tone. "It's not a problem, really."

A slightest hint of amusement appeared in Cas' eyes and Dean suddenly realised he prefered that to the previous careful uneasiness. Maybe making a fool out of himself had some advantages after all...

"Still, you have wasted too much of your precious time on me." Cas moved to stand up and Dean was forced to move too lest he wanted to end up with a lapful of a man. Not that he wouldn't want that, especially a lapful of Cas, but it could be a little inappropriate in that situation.

He had no other choice but to eventually show Cas to the door. He hesitated before opening them up though.  
"Hold on for a second..." he said and lowered his gaze as Cas looked at him curiously. "You never actually told me why my house, my bed... Was that just a coincidence?"  
Cas took in his surroundings, the cosy small hallway, the wooden floors and stairs, the clear white walls.  
"No." he shook his head. "It wasn't a coincidence. I used to live in this house, as a little kid. Strange but it's possibly the only place I had ever called my home." he smiled hesitantly. "It turns out that drunk me must be also a sentimental me. I wouldn't know that, I rarely ever drink, I only happen to have a... mischievous brother." his smile turned a little crooked for a second and then returned to its previous, soft and a little goofy state. "I like what you've done with this place, Dean, still feels a lot like home."  
"Oh." Dean lost all the countenance he had left. "Well, you are always welcome here. Just... Maybe call me first before you visit, alright?"  
"I'll try to remember about that." Cas full on grinned now, adorable crinkles appearing in the corners of his eyes. "Thank you once again, Dean."

And before Dean could get any more flushed than he already was and stutter out a response, Cas kissed him lightly on a cheek and left, closing the door softly behind himself.

Ten minutes later Dean came back around as his phone rang and woke him up from the trance.

***

On Monday Dean was returning home from work in quite a gloomy mood. Not that he had a specific reason for that ("shut up, Sam, you know nothing about anything"), he just was feeling a little down. He bought some groceries on his way, growing even gloomier as the shop didn't have any pie left, and eventually arrived at the house by the time he usually was done with the dinner.

He got out of Baby, fiddled with the keys for a second, picked the groceries up and then immediately dropped the bags onto the ground as he spotted no one else but Cas himself sitting right there on his porch.

"Hello, Dean." said the unexpected guest, his eyes twinkling joyfully in the afternoon sunlight. "I know you told me to call you first but it seems like I forgot to ask you for your phone number. My apologies." he smiled shyly. "As both an apology and thank you I brought this home-made pie with me. I hope that's okay...?" he raised up a definitely pie-shaped box.

Waiting for his approval, Cas looked at Dean hopefully and Dean... Dean realised that quite possibly his life had never been this okay before.

He supposed he could get used to that.


End file.
